


Thumbnail Ridges

by whiteraven1606



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Child Abuse, Child Dean Winchester, Child Sam Winchester, Food Issues, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Protective Dean Winchester, Protectiveness, Rape/Non-con References, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-25 22:24:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/643581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteraven1606/pseuds/whiteraven1606
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a child, Dean made sure Sammy got feed, even if that meant Dean didn't eat. It was hard work, right up until it wasn't anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There is no non-con or rape in the story, but Dean does something really foolish and dangerous as a child that could be triggering, which is why there's the non-con reference tag and the graphic violence warning. Please read with care. Thank you.
> 
> I shouldn't be allowed near Tumblr. This got written because of this post:[Baby Angel of the Garrison's tumblr post](http://baby-angel-of-the-garrison.tumblr.com/post/39077625207/guys-but-this-hurts-so-much-let-me-tell-you-of-my)
> 
> Oh, and I wrote this while sick, just so you know.

****

Dean frowned at the two cans of beans they had left. Dad had said he'd be back by now, but he wasn't. Dean glanced at the window, double checking that the salt line was still in place. He picked up one of the cans and put it right back down.

"Dean?"

Dean scrunched up his nose. Sammy needed more than beans. "Yeah, what?"

"I'm hungry."

Dean nodded as he turned away from the cans. He went across their room to the bag where he'd put the cash Dad had left them. Carefully counting, Dean swallowed. "How hungry, Sammy?"

Sammy looked over at him from where he was sprawled on the bed watching PBS. "My tummy is growling."

Dean counted out the money for another week for the room and frowned at the three dollars left over from that. "I'll go get us something."

Sammy smiled at him. "Thanks, Dean."

Dean automatically smiled back. "Stay in here and don't answer the door. Okay?"

With a roll of his eyes, Sammy widened his sprawl. "I know."

"I mean it, Sammy."

"I know!"

Dean dropped a kiss on top of Sammy's head as he passed by him to get to the door. He checked that he had the key, the cash, and his knife. He took one more look at Sammy as he pulled the door closed. Locking the door, Dean felt the money folded in his pocket with his other hand.

He headed for the office first so that he'd not be any more tempted to use the room money to get enough food for himself as well as Sammy. Dean smiled at the lady behind the counter and pushed the money across the countertop.

She bought his I'm-too-young-to-know-how-much-money-I-handed-you routine hook, line, and sinker. She gave him a whole five back because he'd smiled and said that Dad said he'd have change to bring back to him.

Dean hurried out and slipped down the hallway to double check their door before going on out the building. He fingered the eight dollars he had and pondered just what to get. 

He didn't know if Dad would be back in the next week. Sammy needed milk. Dean checked his thumbnail, it was starting to show ridges again, so he needed to get himself at least a couple of carrots. 

Dean timed going into the little grocery store so that he was tailing a family with kids. No one paid him any attention. He got one of the handheld baskets and stuck near the family through the produce. He decided not to get the carrots and got celery because he knew Sammy would eat celery.

Dean carefully weighed an apple to see if he could afford it. He wrote down the weight and rechecked the price per pound. Once he'd figured that he added it to the celery's price and worked out the tax. Frowning, Dean put it in the basket until he could see how much the milk was going to be.

He got the milk and then Dean stared up at the peanut butter. He'd love to get some, self stable, Sammy would eat it up, but it was going to put him over after tax. Dean took the apple out and redid the figures, trying to find enough room on the pad from the hotel to write. 

Sighing, Dean pulled down the peanut butter and put the apple back. He headed up to the register and pretended to struggle with putting the basket up on the ledge.

"Oh, here, honey. Let me help you."

Dean smiled his most winning smile at the lady and watched her punch in all the items. She rang up the tax and told him the total. Dean held out the eight dollars.

She took it, counted, and frowned. "Honey, you're short fifty-three cents."

Dean went up on tip-toe and made big eyes as he looked over the food and started to sniffle. "Dad said...I..." He sniffed and started to cry. "I'm sorry..."

The lady looked alarmed and made shushing motions at him. "Stop, stop. Don't cry." She looked around and leaned down to talk to him. "I'll cover it for you, alright? We just won't tell anyone, okay?"

Dean sniffed and bit his lips as he nodded. "Okay."

The lady brushed her fingers through his hair and Dean made himself not pull away. "Let's get this bagged up, huh?"

Dean made sure to hug her legs before he picked up the bag and carefully hefted it as he left the store. He hated lying, but it had gotten him the peanut butter. Dean went to the corner, looked around, and then turned down the side of the grocery store.

When he got to the store's dumpster, he sat the bag along the alley wall, and carefully opened up the door to the bin room. He dug through the bags until he got to the produce. He picked the least moldy carrots and the firmest apple. He added them to his bag, hefted it, and headed back to Sammy.

****

Dean flopped on the bed and stared at the ceiling as he listened to Sammy sleep. The kid was a bottomless pit. He'd eaten half the jar of peanut butter in one sitting. 

Dean rubbed his index finger over his thumbnail. He needed to eat, but he was at that stage of hungry where he couldn't eat, he'd just throw it back up. Dean got up and checked the salt lines again.

He hated having to lie, but Dean knew what would happen if he told any adult about not having food. They'd take him away like they talked about doing after the fire, when they were thinking Dean had done it because Dean hadn't wanted to talk to them.

Dean touched the carrots and pressed a hand to his empty stomach. He just had to make himself feel nothing. He was getting pretty good at it.

****

Dean checked another day off the calendar and looked over at Sammy trying to add like the Count on PBS. They were going to run out of food before diner. Sammy had even eaten the carrots with peanut butter. Dean started going through all of the bags.

"What'ca doing?"

Dean glanced up at Sammy twisted around on the bed to look at him. "Looking for stuff."

Sammy frowned. "That's Daddy's extra bag."

"I know."

Sammy glared. "You aren't supposed to go through Daddy's extra bag."

Dean crouched down tighter to press his knees into his stomach to stop it from growling. "I'm older and I can do what I want."

"No, you can't." Sammy scrambled around so he could see over the side of the bed down into the bag Dean was searching. "What are you looking for?"

Dean bit the inside of his cheek. He couldn't tell Sammy. Not until he absolutely had to tell him. "I don't have to tell you."

Sammy stuck his tongue out, and thankfully, went back to the TV. "I'm going to tell Dad you were mean to me."

Dean made himself smaller as he forced himself to not cry. "Go ahead." Dean quickly felt for the sewn in compartment. It was still empty. He'd used it up in Texas months ago and Dad hadn't noticed yet. Dean zipped the bag closed and got the key to the room.

Sammy was sullen as Dean kissed him on top of the head, before leaving, and locking the door behind himself.

****

Dean checked the dumpsters behind the grocery store and four restaurants before he gave up and sat down on a curb to think. He was too young to work. If he stole from the store he'd go to jail, Mom had said jail was not nice, Dean remembered. 

He could collect cans for a scrap yard, but he didn't know where that was and in the ten block area around the hotel he was willing to go, Dean hadn't found one. Dean stared at his thumbnail. 

"Hey, kid. You waiting on someone?"

Dean looked up to find a young guy standing over him. "Yeah."

The guy raised one eyebrow, like Dean was trying to teach himself how to do. "Really? You've been sitting there a while now. This isn't exactly a school or anything, you know."

Dean craned his neck to look the guy in the eye. "I'm fine."

The guy nodded. "Sure, sure." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "You need a ride?"

Dean leaned a little to the side to see the car the guy was pointing at. It was sleek and big, like Dad's Impala, but with an icky paint job. Dean got up, dusted his butt off, checking for his knife tucked in at his back as he did. "You sure it isn't any trouble?"

The guy smiled too wide. "Nope. No trouble."

Dean made himself appear smaller and younger as he pulled on the car door, until the guy opened it up and waited for him to climb in before shutting the door. While the guy walked around the car, Dean studied the dash and front seat.

Dean acted like it wasn't anything when the guy put his hand on Dean's thigh. He just jabbered stupid answers to the guy's stupid questions as he waited for the guy to pull into an alley and stop. Dean acted like he'd not even noticed that as the guy took his hand away to put the car into park.

Then the guy started to turn towards him as he unzipped his jeans. Dean pulled his knife out and around in a practiced move and buried the knife in the guy's leg. The guy screamed and Dean yanked the knife out. Then he slashed at the guy's face.

Batting at the knife, the guy scrambled out of the car, falling onto his butt as he went. Dean pulled the door shut, clicked the lock down, and pulled the glove box open. He grabbed cash and drugs out of it and stood up on the seat to check that the guy wasn't coming back yet, before scrambling out of the car with the car keys in his hand.

Dean ran down the alley and turned the first corner. He wiped his knife off on a little clump of weeds along the foundation of the building he was leaning against. Dean blew out a breath and decided to be brave.

He circled around the block to find the blood trail of the guy leading away from the alley. Dean smiled as he found the contents of the guy's pockets had fallen out near the car.

Dean grabbed up the wallet and ran.

****

Dean ran until he got to the grocery store's alley. He turned down it and hid in the dumpster as he checked what he'd stolen. He wiped off the guy's identification and carefully laid it out so the next employee to come with trash would see it.

Dean counted the money from the wallet and the glovebox. It was so much he'd whistle if he could. Dean tucked the drugs into the back most trash sack and left.

****

Dean checked for Sammy first thing when he got back to their room. Satisfied, Dean took more money and went to the office to pay for another week. He made sure to smile and apologize for his Dad not 'knowing' the right price and gave the woman enough to make them even.

Dean let himself back into their room and he flopped onto the floor next to the bed Sammy was taking all of at the moment. Dean bit his lip as his breathing started to speed up without him saying it could. 

Soon, Dean had to roll over so he could sob into the carpet to keep from bothering Sammy. He couldn't even figure out why he was crying.

****

Dean smiled up at Dad as he cupped the back of Sammy's head. "We were fine."

Sammy looked at him, but didn't tattle or anything. Dean mentally sighed as Dad started gathering up their stuff without anything more than saying they needed to go.

Dean crawled into the back seat with Sammy and curled up tight, trying to work out why he still felt like crying. It had been such a baby thing to do.

Sammy kicked him lightly. "I'm bored."

Dean sniffed and rubbed at his cheek. "You can't be bored already."

Sammy kicked him a little harder. "I'm bored."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Fine." He held up three fingers on one hand and two on the other. "How many is three plus two?"

****


	2. Chapter 2

****

Sam watched Dean wolf down a burger. He put his chin in his hand and stared. 

Dean frowned at him as he chewed. "What?"

"Nothing." Sam shook his head.

Dean rolled his eyes and kept eating.

Sam made himself lean back instead of forward like he wanted to. "When did we go hungry enough for you to remember days of hunger?"

Dean nearly choked and tilted his head as he forced himself to finish swallowing. "What? What are you talking about?"

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You. When you said you know what not eating for days felt like."

Dean blinked and frowned down at his food. "I didn't say that."

"You agreed when you were asked..."

"Oh, that." Dean tucked the last bite of burger into his mouth. "Can it wait until we get back to the room, Sam?"

Sam's chest tightened. "Yeah, Dean. Sure."

Dean nodded and ate the rest of his food on automatic.

****

Sam left it alone when they got back to the room because Dean didn't grab a beer. Sam knew pushing right then was a bad idea.

Dean went over to the laptop and pulled up a criminal database for Virginia. "Come here, Sam."

Sam pulled up one of the crappy hotel chairs and looked at the middle-aged guy's face page. "What's this?"

Dean leaned back in his seat. "This is the guy I let take me in his car into an alley so I could stab him and take his money." Dean pointed at the list of charges. "He looks like he got caught not long after we were in that town."

Sam checked the dates and struggled to remember when they'd been in Virginia to match it all up. He sometimes wanted to go back and tell himself to pay better attention back then. "I don't remember."

Dean shrugged. "You didn't know." He closed the laptop. "It isn't like I said anything to you. You were learning to do simple addition at the time."

Sam had hazy memories of Dean holding up his fingers and asking questions about adding. "I remember you teaching me to add, but I don't remember being hungry, Dean."

Dean snorted and shook his head. "That's because you weren't hungry, Sammy."

Sam blinked. "You fed me, but not yourself."

Dean shrugged and stood up to move over to the little refrigerator. "You're my brother."

Sam ran his hand over his mouth and chin. "You..." Sam stopped and frowned at Dean. "Dean, how often did you go without?" Sam tried to remember when Dean had eaten with him as a kid. He couldn't come up with one instance. 

"I didn't count." Dean flopped backwards on the bed and opened up the beer he'd gotten out.

Sam watched him down half the bottle in one go. "You didn't tell Dad either."

Dean eyed him as he put down the beer. "What was I supposed to say, Sam? I was a kid."

Sam bit his lip and shot up for his chair to pace. "No. I know, I just..." He turned towards Dean. "Why didn't you just ask for help or something?"

Dean threw his arm over his eyes. "I thought it'd get us taken away from Dad."

"Oh." Sam dropped to sit next to Dean's ankles on the bed. "I can see why you would have thought that."

Dean peeked at him from under his arm. "Yeah?"

Sam nodded and clasped his hands over his knees. "Yeah." He turned his head to look at Dean. "Just...Days, Dean?"

Dean shrugged one shoulder and went back to hiding his eyes. "It wasn't that bad."

Sam leaned forward. "Yeah, sure. That's why you bolt food." He sat up as it occurred to him. "Dean...Was that guy the only one that tried to hurt you?"

Dean dropped his arm to stare at Sam. "What? Sam, I _stabbed_ the bastard. He didn't hurt me."

Sam touched Dean's leg just above the knee and pulled back when Dean jerked. "No, he didn't hurt you at all."

Dean flinched and rolled to sit up on the other side of the bed. "Let it alone."

"Dean." Sam sighed and looked down at his hands. "I just...I barely remember at time when you used to kiss me on top of the head before you'd leave me alone. Then you stopped touching me at all." He bit his lip. "Was it because..."

"Shut up, Sam!" Dean stood up fast and walked to the nearest wall to stand there, breathing hard.

Sam watched him.

Dean half-turned towards Sam and stared at his toes. "Mom used to, you know...kiss the top of my head." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I...I missed it."

Sam approached slowly, watching Dean for any sign that he needed to stop. He gathered up Dean into a hug and nearly panicked when Dean relaxed against him instead of pulling away like Sam had thought he would.

****

Sam pulled Dad's journal closer and cross-referenced their stays with criminals going into the system with knife scars on their right thighs with a sexual related crime in their histories. When he was done making the list, Sam was in awe of the amount of danger Dean had put himself into.

Dean was asleep, drugged on painkillers from a run in with hunk of headstone a ghost had thrown at him while they were trying to dug up the bones to salt and burn.

Sam cleared the internet history, because he knew Dean knew how to check it. That done, Sam shut down the computer and went out to the Impala. He gently pried off the panel he wasn't supposed to know about and looked at the amount of money Dean had hidden in it.

Sam estimated the amount and then put the panel back into place. "Cas? Cas, if you aren't too busy I need to talk to someone and you're it because I can't bring this up with Bobby. Please, Castiel."

Cas appeared and looked around. "Sam."

"Hi, uh, Cas. Thanks...thanks for coming down."

Cas looked surprised. "You wanted to talk?"

"Uh, yeah." Sam leaned against the back bumper of the car and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "If angels have been watching over us, why didn't they do anything any of the times Dean used himself as bait to steal from pediphiles?"

Cas settled next to Sam and crossed his arms. "You are stubborn."

"I..."

Cas held up his hand. "Not just you, of course. All Winchesters appear to be stubborn. Dean did not want to shoplift. He feared asking for help. Stealing from a person he considered a monster was acceptable in his mind."

"Yeah, I get that. I just don't understand why let him...endanger himself?"

"He was not without protection." Cas stood up. "Would you like to see?"

Sam glanced over his shoulder at their room where Dean was sleeping. "Yes."

****


	3. Chapter 3

****

Dean shook, feeling rather like he was shaking apart. The last guy had nearly gotten him pinned and Dean wasn't sure, but he might have killed the guy. Dad would be furious with him for killing a human. Dean jumped as a guy appeared in front of him and fell to the ground on his butt.

The guy's eyes went wide and he scrambled back away from Dean until he hit the opposite alley wall. "This wasn't what I meant!" He looked around and then at Dean. "Uh, hi. I'm so sorry about this."

Dean kept his knife up and frowned at the guy. "What are you?"

The guy looked down at himself and winced. "Uhm. Let's go with guardian angel?"

Dean frowned and edged away. "I don't think so."

The guy rubbed his face. "You wouldn't believe me if I tried to explain..." He blinked, cocked his head, and then rolled his eyes. "Oh, I am totally kicking his _ass_ when I get back..." He snapped his mouth closed and grimaced. "Sorry."

Dean wiped at his cheek on the back of his hand. "You're crazy."

The guy made a face as he nodded. "Probably. It goes with my life. You'd think that being a hunter would be simpler, like it is for your Dad, but, well..." He shrugged. "I'm...I'm Sam."

Dean frowned and adjusted his hold on his knife. "You're a hunter?"

Sam rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah. Salt and burns. Rock salt. The whole nine yards."

"Huh." Dean frowned. "I need to go."

Sam nodded. "Of course. You mind if I get a room in the same motel?"

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"I can't be your guardian angel if I'm across town."

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes.

****

Sam filled out a credit card application with phony information as Dean watched him. "What?"

"Why are you just making up stuff? Dad uses dead people's names."

Sam tucked the completed form into the envelope. "If I make it up, it'll just cost everyone that has a credit card a couple of cents apiece since I won't charge a lot to it. If I use a dead person's name the company might try to collect what I use from that one family."

"Oh." Dean looked at him. "Then why do they give you a card?"

"The companies I apply to don't do instant checks of the information. They give me a card first and then finish the checks. By the time they stop the card from working, I've moved on to the next application."

Dean frowned at the application. "You don't make anything stand out, right? Dad says it can't catch someone's eye."

"That's right." Sam watched Dean check the closed door to the room where his younger self was napping or watching TV. 

Dean started to carefully fill in the application in front of him. "Dad says I can't do this until I'm older."

Sam had figured out why adult-Dean would get so mad every time Sam said 'Dad says.' Sam just nodded. "You probably shouldn't, but if you could draw out cash on the card then you'd have money to buy food and stuff with." Sam tried to ignore the rumbling of Dean's stomach. Offering food had gotten him glared at by Dean.

Dean put down his pen and he looked at Sam. "Why are you named Sam?"

Sam rubbed his nose. "I'm..."

Cas appeared behind Dean. "It is short for Samuel." Cas leaned down as Dean stared at him. "He will help you save the world one day."

Dean blinked, glanced at Sam, and then back at Cas. "Why do you have wings and he doesn't?"

Cas smiled. "He is undercover."

Dean looked Cas' trench coat up and down. "He's better at it than you."

"Sometimes." Cas sat on a chair that appeared for him as he settled.

Dean looked sharply to Sam and then he poked Cas' shoulder with a fingertip. "Are you really an angel? Mom always said that some monsters are good ones and not ones to kill. Are you a good monster and just called an angel?"

Cas grinned at Sam above Dean's head before leaning down to answer Dean. "I am an angel, not a monster, though there are moments I worry about what I might become."

Dean frowned. "Sooooo...No killing you?"

"No."

Dean nodded. "Dad might try when he gets here, but I don't think he's coming back this time."

Cas looked at Sam. "Your father is injured and will not be back for five more days. I thought you might like someone to watch over you until then."

Dean looked from Cas to Sam and back. "Dad will be okay, right?"

"Yes, he will heal." Cas pulled a credit card from his trench coat pocket. "This will fund your room and food until he can return."

Dean turned the card over in his hands and frowned. "What's the catch?"

Cas pulled Dean's chair away from the table and turned it slightly to face more towards the room door across the parking lot. "No 'catch' as you say. I promise."

Dean slipped off the chair and looked up at Cas. "Promises don't mean anything."

Cas shrugged. "Perhaps. This promise does and you will realize it as time passes."

****


	4. Chapter 4

****

Dean smiled up at Sam as he landed on Dean's bed. "Back already?"

"Shit. How did you know..." Sam looked down himself at the grass stains on his pants. "Oh, right, from making you play like a eight year old."

Dean rolled onto his side and propped his head on his hand. "You know Cas' credit card worked every time Dad was injured until you were eighteen."

"Huh." Sam put one arm under his head. "That's why the reports of stab wounds tapered off."

"You looked them up?"

Sam winched. "Yeah. I wasn't going to say anything. I just...I needed to know."

"Yeah." Dean touched the tip of Sam's shoulder. "Thanks for not telling little-you anything when you were back there."

Sam closed his eyes. "I can't believe you didn't say anything sooner."

"I didn't remember it clearly until you and Cas went back then." Dean pushed on Sam's shoulder. "Bitch."

Sam snorted and almost choked on a laugh as he pushed Dean off the bed. "Jerk."

****


End file.
